


Rescue Me

by telperion_15



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Torchwood
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-06
Updated: 2010-06-06
Packaged: 2017-10-09 23:01:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/92530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/telperion_15/pseuds/telperion_15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack and the Doctor have a talk and sort through a few things (set after Torchwood Season 1).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rescue Me

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for dwliterotica on LiveJournal - May 2007 challenge: May Day rescues.
> 
> Spoilers for Doctor Who 'The Parting of the Ways' and 'School Reunion', and Torchwood 'End of Days'.

"So, what are you doing hanging around with that lot, then?" asked the Doctor, fiddling with some knobs on the TARDIS console, and deliberately avoiding looking at Jack.

"What lot?" replied Jack, trying to play innocent. He had been waiting for the other shoe to drop ever since the TARDIS had come and swept him away, and now apparently it was about to.

"Torchwood," specified the Doctor, with a look that said he shouldn't have to spell it out. "They're not exactly my favourite people and, coincidentally, they're not that fond of me, either. Not quite the people I would have pictured you getting involved with."

Jack sighed. Yep, the other shoe was definitely dropping. He wasn't exactly sure what to say. He still didn't have the measure of this new Doctor yet. To say that it had been a shock to board the TARDIS and find a stranger at the controls would be an understatement. And if you coupled that with the fact that Rose was gone, and had been replaced by this 'Martha Jones'…well, it was also an understatement to say that Jack was going to need some time to adjust.

"When you find yourself stuck somewhere, you have to do something with your time," he said, responding to the Doctor's question. "And at least at Torchwood I could put my knowledge and skills to good use."

"Stuck?" queried the Doctor. "You were stuck?"

Jack gave him a look. "It was easy enough to get away from the Games Station," he explained bitterly. "There's plenty of time-travelling technology in the year 200,100 for someone who's resourceful enough to get their hands on it. But that sort of thing is a little more difficult to find when you crash land in the twentieth century, destroying your ship in the process. Torchwood was the only place I had any hope of finding a replacement."

"The twentieth century? How long were you stuck for?"

"Well, I've been working for Torchwood for about ten years," said Jack slowly. "At least, ten years that they currently know about," he corrected. "I've actually been working for them, at different outposts, for close to eighty years. I used a virus to wipe myself from their system every so often, then reapplied as a new recruit. I think it would have given the game away if one of their operatives didn't age over the course of a century, don't you?"

The Doctor had the look of someone who was struggling to hide their shock, and failing at it.

"Don't worry, Doctor." Jack pre-empted the inevitable guilt. "I don't blame you. At least, not entirely." He couldn't resist that last jab. And in any case, it was the truth. And the Doctor needed to hear the truth.

"Oh, Jack." Those were the only words the Doctor uttered, and they were laden with his guilt, the way Jack knew they would be.

Then, as was so typical of the Doctor, his mind jumped away on to another tack, locking the guilt away until it could be dealt with.

"Hang on a minute. Why did you choose the twentieth century? Why this time? And why this place? You didn't need to come here. You could have used your ship to take you to any time period, where there was more technology, more familiarity, more…"

"Because of you," Jack interrupted him. "What?" he continued defensively, challenging the Doctor's surprise. "Did you think I was just going to forget you, like you forgot me? I've had a lifetime to forget you, Doctor, and it hasn't happened yet. It would take a hundred, a thousand, lifetimes to erase you from my mind, if it's even possible at all. I came here because I thought this was the best place to find you. I knew that sooner or later you would show up with Rose, and that Torchwood would notice you. And then I'd find you."

"I'm a lot more adept at hiding myself than you might think," the Doctor replied quietly. "Torchwood have only found me once, and that ended with their destruction. Because that's what I bring, Jack. Destruction. You of all people should know that. You died, remember? And that was because of me."

"And now I'm alive again," retorted Jack. "I _can't_ die any more, Doctor, and I suspect that's because of you, too."

"Actually, that's because of Rose," said the Doctor unexpectedly. "She brought you back to life using the power of the TARDIS, and that's not supposed to happen. You, my boy, are a freak of nature." The Doctor said this with the beginnings of a grin on his face, which died in the instant that he saw Jack's expression. He had known it was the wrong thing to say, really, but the Doctor wasn't overly fond of introspection and the deep-and-meaningful. Ideally, he had hoped to avoid it altogether and return to easiness of his and Jack's former comradeship.

But that obviously wasn't going to happen, and now he wondered if he hadn't done some irreparable damage with his thoughtless remark.

"Jack, I'm sorry," the Doctor said quickly. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean that. You're not a freak."

"But I am, though," said Jack. "You're right, Doctor."

"Well, we'll find a way to solve it," said the Doctor. "I'm here now, and I'll help you solve it. You won't need to go back to Torchwood again."

"Oh," murmured Jack wonderingly, looking like someone for whom the penny had just dropped. "That's what this is all about, isn't it? You think you've rescued me, don't you? You think that by taking me away from Torchwood you've done me this huge favour – that a life with you is the only kind of life anyone could ever want."

"But you just said that you've spent the last eighty years looking for me," protested the Doctor, clearly nonplussed by Jack's abrupt about-face.

"I did. I was. I am," replied Jack, struggling to get the words out through his anger. "But you haven't been looking for me, and yet you think you can just swoop in and whisk me away and I'll fall grovelling at your feet with gratitude! Well, think again, Doctor. I may have needed you, but that doesn't necessarily mean that I _wanted_ you!"

At that moment, Jack wanted nothing more than to get away, to leave the Doctor far behind, and never come back. He didn't think he could bear the Doctor's pity and condescension for one moment longer. Unfortunately, he was trapped. The TARDIS seemed to have removed all the doors, apparently with the aim of forcing the two men to talk through their problems. The only remaining door was the one leading to the outside, but since they were currently floating in the time vortex, that one wasn't an option.

"But you did, didn't you?" said the Doctor softly, the compassion that Jack had mistaken for pity written clear on his face.

"Did what?" Jack snapped.

"Want me."

Something inside Jack broke with those two words. They were said without a trace of smugness or arrogance, and in them was layered more understanding than Jack had ever hoped to get from anyone, least of all the Doctor. The Doctor could be understanding, he could be sensitive, but he could also be distant and obstructive. Jack's previous relationship with him had lay somewhere in the middle ground. The Doctor had opened up somewhat to Jack, but he had also kept much of himself closed off. Jack hadn't expected, if he ever found the Doctor again, that the Time Lord would appreciate just how much Jack had missed him, how much effort he had put into finding him. The Doctor lived in the here-and-now, and didn't like to waste energy considering what might have been, or chasing after shadows and dreams.

Added to this was the fact that Jack was now confronted with a completely new Doctor – one that he didn't know and couldn't yet read. He had no idea how events were going to play out with this man who was a stranger, and yet somehow still a friend.

"Oh, Doctor." Jack's voice was barely above a whisper, and the Doctor had to lean forward to catch the words. "Of _course_ I wanted you. I've been looking for you every day for the past eighty years – I never stopped hoping that I'd run into you one day investigating the same strange things that I was, or that I'd turn a corner and find the TARDIS standing there, waiting for you to return. I've never wanted anything more in my entire life than to see you again."

"Oh, Jack," echoed the Doctor. "I'm so sorry. You have to believe me when I say that I thought you were dead. I would never, _never_ have left you otherwise." He smiled ruefully. "But I'm here now. You've found me."

"But you're so different. I don't know you any more."

"I'm still me, Jack. I may look different, and sound different, but I'm still the Doctor. I still remember what we had before. I still missed you, although nobody knew it but me."

Jack looked at the Doctor for a long moment. Then, tentatively, he reached out and touched the Doctor's face. The skin was smooth, which fitted with the younger visage, and the cheekbones were slightly more pronounced. Sliding his hand back, Jack buried his fingertips in the Doctor's hair. This too was smoother, and softer, and there was no denying that there was more of it.

Throughout Jack's exploration the Doctor stood completely still, never taking his eyes off Jack, not wanting to disturb the other man's contemplation. If this was what Jack needed to do to adjust, then the Doctor would let him.

Jack's fingers trailed down the side of the Doctor's face, coming to rest somewhere just above his jawbone. "You're so different," he whispered again.

"But I'm still me," repeated the Doctor softly. He wasn't sure what to do now. Jack was acting like nervous animal, ready to shy away at any moment, and the Doctor didn't want to be the one to provoke that.

Jack, however, solved the problem for him. Without stopping to think or to analyse, he leaned forward and kissed the Doctor.

Just like everything else, kissing this Doctor was different too. With the old Doctor, kissing was like a fight for dominance, each trying to win, although the thrill of the battle was almost worth a defeat.

But this Doctor was much more relaxed. There was much more give-and-take, with just a hint of mischief as the Doctor nipped at Jack's lower lip and teased him with his tongue.

It was impossible to compare the two experiences, and Jack didn't even bother to try. Instead he concentrated on the _feel_ of this Doctor – his slim waist encircled by Jack's left arm, the scratchiness of his suit collar against the back of Jack's right hand. And his taste – still exotic, but slightly sweeter, like a young wine still maturing.

But underneath all that, underneath all the newness, Jack could sense something familiar, something that he knew and recognised. Something that he'd been searching for for far too long. The Doctor was right – he _was_ still the Doctor. He was still the person that Jack had been trying to find all these years.

The two men were now standing so close together that Jack could feel both the Doctor's hearts beating in his chest. The position was good – comfortable and exciting all at once. And although the kiss was over now, neither man seemed to want to move away. They were content where they were, leaning against each other – leaning _on_ each other – for support.

"You know," mused Jack slowly, "maybe you did rescue me after all, Doctor."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow, demonstrating his surprise at yet another change of heart.

"Oh, not from Torchwood," Jack continued hastily. "But maybe from myself. I told you once that I was better off as a coward. But that wasn't true. I was better off – I _am_ better off – with you. Before I met you I was nothing. But you made me something. Something I could be proud of. I guess that's one of the reasons I was so desperate to find you again. I liked feeling that way, Doctor, and I want to feel that way again."

The Doctor leaned back slightly so he could look Jack in the eye. "You're wrong, Jack," he said softly. "_I_ didn't make you into anything. You did that all by yourself. You've always been a good person. You just needed to see that for yourself. And besides, do you think you haven't been a good person for the past eighty years? I doubt that very much. Haven't you helped people? Haven't you done good things? I mean, you've just gone and saved the world from a great big ugly demon! And nearly died in the process. If that's not something to be proud of, I don't know what is."

"Okay, so I saved the world," Jack acknowledged. "But it wasn't entirely out of the goodness of my heart, Doctor. Some part of me was searching for peace when I faced Abbadon. Some part of me was hoping that this would be it – I'd finally found something that would prove a match for my immortality. It's the same part of me that hopes, every time I get shot, or stabbed, or electrocuted, that this will be the last time. That this time I won't wake up. That this time I'll find peace. Searching for you has been the only thing keeping me going, Doctor, and sometimes I've wondered if even that's enough. I'm so tired, Doctor. Tired of watching the world pass me by. Tired of seeing everyone I get close to wither and fade. Tired of being alone."

"Now you know how I feel."

The words were spoken without blame or recrimination, and yet Jack blanched at the depth of the sorrow in the Doctor's voice. He cursed himself for his thoughtlessness. Why, the length of his life was nothing to the Doctor's. The pain and sorrow he had experienced couldn't even compare to what the Doctor had been through during his nine-hundred-plus years.

"Doctor, I'm sorry," said Jack remorsefully.

"Jack, don't worry. I wasn't trying to make you feel bad. No human should have to go through what you've been through. I don't blame you for feeling like you've been through the wringer. But now, at least, maybe you understand what my life has been like. Never aging, never dying, watching those I love pass away like ashes in the wind. We're alike, you and I."

"I suppose we are," Jack agreed. "Maybe neither of us will have to be alone any more," he added. He was half-joking, but it was impossible to miss the sudden flaring of hope in the Doctor's eyes, a hope that was just as quickly squashed as the Time Lord's self-preservation instincts kicked in.

Jack was slightly taken aback by the extremity of that brief flash of emotion. He'd never thought of the Doctor as being a needy person before. But, he supposed, if he felt this alone after only eighty years, how much more intense must the Doctor's loneliness be? Jack knew he was seeing a Doctor close to the end of his tether, close to the edge.

"I can't promise you anything, Doctor," Jack said slowly. "I can't promise you that I won't change my mind next week, or next year, or next century. And I can't promise you that I'll even remain this way – who knows if the effects will suddenly reverse themselves? I might suddenly drop dead at any second."

"I'm not asking you to do this for me, Jack," said the Doctor, almost angrily. "I can't ask it of you. It's not fair. You've just told me how tired you are of life, how you wished it would end. I won't deny you peace just to satisfy my own selfish desires. We should start looking for a way to fix you."

"I'm not broken, Doctor. I know that now. I'm just different. Like you." Jack smiled a crooked smile. "We can be two freaks together. I would never tire of life with you. And peace? Well, peace is highly overrated!"

"I once told Rose that although she could spend the rest of her life with me, I couldn't spend the rest of mine with her," the Doctor said softly, seemingly not hearing Jack's words. "As it turns out, I was wrong on both counts. But at least she's safe now."

The Doctor had a faraway look in his eyes, and Jack suddenly felt like an intruder. He still wasn't clear on exactly what had happened to Rose, but it _was_ clear that the Doctor still missed her. A lot. Jack tried to step away from the Doctor, but was brought up short as the Time Lord tightened his arm around his waist.

"I don't want to be a replacement, Doctor," Jack said, struggling to get away. "I can't be your runner-up."

The Doctor responded by tightening his grip still further "You'll never be a replacement, Jack." He smiled slightly. "How could _you_ be anybody's replacement?"

Jack relaxed slightly, but he was still wary.

"I loved Rose, and I never got to tell her. I left it too late. And I thought I'd left it too late with you, as well. But apparently the universe has decided to give me a second chance in this instance."

Jack held his breath.

"Jack, I love you. Will you stay with me?"

Jack felt himself go limp with relief. Those were the words he'd been needing to hear, although he hadn't known it until this moment.

"Yes, Doctor. I will."


End file.
